One Last Time
by Les-Gateaux
Summary: The surgery has failed, and Yukimura lies dying in the arms of the one who loves him most...SanaYuki


Disclaimer: Yep. I own Tenipuri, and Atobe is madly in love with me, and Tezuka goes to my school, and…wait, that was my dream last night.

Anyways, this is slightly AU-ish, and probably very OOC, seeing as I have yet to watch episodes 116-117 (my computer's being amazingly slow at downloading again; twenty-nine hours to go). In other words, I have no idea what's going on with Yukimura right now, other than the fact that he's either about to undergo surgery or has already had it and is recovering.

So…bleh.

This drabble is mainly to see whether I can capture Sanada and Yukimura's personalities. **Please criticize.**

Note: To Sea-at-Night: If you read this, and actually like it, you can think of it as a get-well gift (if you're still sick, that is.) Oh, and good luck on your history paper. (Of course, if you _don't_ like it, well…there's not much to say, is there? -.-)

One Last Time

The walls were completely white, with a kind of finality; Sanada stared at them, wishing they held some of the color that was missing from his captain's skin. Yukimura, leaning against the array of pillows, watched him with eyes dulled by pain, and said nothing.

They sat in silence for awhile, Sanada noting faintly that he should be talking, since he'd never get another chance to talk to Seichi. As usual, however, he was quiet, and spent his energy forcing himself not to cry.

Seichi hated it when people cried, and it was the least the fukubuchou could do for him now.

Behind him, Yukimura coughed, and Sanada darted to his side in an instant. The other boy pulled a smile back onto his abnormally pale face. "No need to worry. There was just…something in my throat…"

He reached over and grasped Seichi's hand, and a bit of Yukimura's smile slipped away as Sanada pried open the weak fingers to reveal a handkerchief stained with blood.

"You should be resting," he said softly. "To…you know, speed up your recovery…"

Yukimura eyed him, the smile growing quickly bitter. "If you don't want to stay here, you can leave…I'm not going to stop you."

"I never said that."

"Then stop trying to make me hope for a recovery. I hoped to play tennis again, and my legs no longer move; I hoped to graduate, but I couldn't even go to school; I hoped to live, and the doctor already told me I would die. Do you think I really believe in the concept of hope anymore?"

Sanada said nothing.

Yukimura shifted on the bed, wincing. "I'm sorry. You can still hope. Perhaps someday you'll be famous, in the tennis world, and you'll find someone…to live your life with, and you can forget all about me…"

He tensed as he felt the other boy's arms envelope him, but relaxed into the embrace. "I don't need anyone else," Sanada whispered into his ear, one hand stroking the dark tresses that were still beautiful and silky, despite their owner's condition.

"Well, you always were a hopeless romantic. Niou would laugh if he knew…"

Sanada felt the first tear slip down his cheek and shatter into a million crystalline fragments on his captain's porcelain skin. He pulled away, quickly wiping his eyes, and when he turned back, Yukimura was staring at the table by the bed.

"Can you promise me something, Genichirou?"

There was nothing he could refuse Seichi, now. "Anything…"

"Do you see that syringe on the table?" At Sanada's nod, he smiled dreamily. "Promise that when I tell you to, you'll inject that into my wrist…"

"What is it?" the vice-captain asked, suddenly afraid.

Yukimura tilted his head. "It's just a painkiller. You worry too much."

"Are you afraid?" Sanada asked, his voice low.

"Afraid? Of dying, you mean? No. A captain can't afford to be afraid of anything."

"What if I'm not viewing you as a captain?" Sanada replied. "What if I'm seeing you as a person…a friend?"

The other boy hesitated, and the hesitation was the only answer either of them needed.

He bent and kissed the cold lips, gently, sweetly, ignoring the slight coppery taste of Yukimura's lips. His captain leaned upwards into the kiss, eyes closed, a slight flush coming into his cheeks. Slowly, Sanada pulled away, but let his hand remain in the other's grasp.

Yukimura had never looked so lovely. His face, unnaturally pale, retained the ethereal quality it had always had; his eyes, translucent, reflected the light, and his hair fanned out around him.

Sanada found himself running a hand over the pale skin, and Seichi smiled up at him. "You look…beautiful," he managed, and Yukimura laughed softly at the comment.

"You're telling that to a dying boy," he pointed out. Turning towards the windows, he sighed wistfully. "I wish…"

And then he let out a noise between a scream and a gasp, his hand tightening painfully around Sanada's. The vice captain winced, but made no effort to pull away, instead trying to hold the other boy down as he writhed. Yukimura gasped again, and coughed violently. "Genichirou…the syringe…"

Sanada lifted the syringe from the table, and grapsed a slender wrist, gently emptying the contents of the needle into a vein.

"Ahhh…" Seichi sighed, and relaxed. "I lied to you, you know."

"What?"

"The syringe…I asked my doctor to put in twice the usual amount." The slight smile returned. "He agreed, probably out of pity…"

Sanada froze. "You…"

Yukimura raised an arm and pulled him downwards, drawing him into another kiss. Both knew that this would be their last, and they made the most of it, putting forth all of their passion into that motion.

When they broke apart, the vice captain clutched the other's hand. "Seichi…"

"Don't cry." Yukimura reached up and wiped a tear from Sanada's cheek.

"Seichi!"

The captain gazed up with eyes that were slowly darkening. "I love you…"

Sanada clasped the cold hands. "Don't…"

Seichi's eyes dimmed, opaque. "Geni…chi…"

His hand fell limply to the bed, and Sanada gazed at the utterly still figure. He stayed there, praying for a miracle, but when no movement occurred, he knew, and accepted it.

Bending, he whispered 'I love you' to ears that could no longer hear.

One last kiss, pressed upon Yukimura's forehead, and Sanada straightened. The boy looked suddenly empty, now devoid of the spirit that had lead Rikkaidai's tennis club for so long. The body was almost a mockery of the captain's former self.

Sanada turned, leaving the room.

The others crowded around him, all the Regulars, each worried, each hopeful. Kirihara was the one who asked, "Yukimura, is he…?"

And then stopped, as he saw Sanada's face.

They parted, letting him through. He walked to the far end of the waiting room, and pressed his forehead against the cool surface of the wall. There, he wept; wept for the loss of human life, for the loss of a friend, for the shattering ofhis heart; wept for a lost angel, and for the boy who had taught him how to love, and for the boy he had loved…

He wept for Seichi.

* * *

O.O That was weird. I should really stop writing angst. Anyways, please tell me everything I did wrong (probably a lot of things) and it'd be helpful if you included some stuff about Yukimura's personality, too...thanks.


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